Fighting in Love
by jenlovesbones
Summary: "When you can see the wall, you realize you have another option entirely." Do two one-shot-like-ficlets make a series? You tell me. Chapter 2 is a tag to Always. Cause everybody is doing it.
1. Fighting in Love

_**Writers should know - ideally- what it is that they're publishing. This is one of those rare cases when I have NO clue. Is this it? Is there something more? No idea…**_

_**I'm just really excited for the finale. And I had to write about it. The only spoilers come from promos. **_**In fact**_**, this probably won't make sense unless you've seen the promos. And thanks to RositaLG who said, and I quote: "Post it. Right now. POSTITPOSTITPOSTITPOSTIT!" I lack any confidence, but that helped. :) *hugs***_

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Fighting in Love

_In those moments before death, everything slows down. _

She was chasing the man who was the best lead to end her torment. _  
._

_It's like flying. For a moment. For eternity._

She was chasing him until she was hit by him. Once. Twice. And again. The hits keep on coming.

.

_Flying from something._

"I love you, Kate. If that means anything, just don't do this…" echoes in her head.

.

_Flying toward nothing. Nothing but an end._

She doubled over before getting her own hits in. And the battle continued.

.

_Something tugs at her in the fall. Until she's not falling at all._

Until she was in the air. Flying. Before hanging precariously off a ledge.

.

_It's like she has a choice now, as her body slams into the building. Hold on. Fight. Or let go. Fall._

"I love you, Kate. If that means anything, just don't do this…" echoes in her head.

_._

_She tires quickly as her fingers begin slipping from the ledge._

The man who threw her over this building has answers. And knowing that should be enough motivation for her to launch herself back on to the building and continue the chase.

_._

_She wants to scream but remains silent. She wants to look down but discards the urge._

But it's not enough anymore. Because she knows there may never come a time when there's not someone to chase. She's so tired of running, in every sense of the word. She needs more than revenge as fuel to survive in this life.

_._

_She almost laughs at the metaphor in the situation. She's literally seconds from falling. _

It doesn't matter what happens next. She could arrest this man. She could arrest everyone he has ever been associated with. They could be locked up behind bars for the rest of their lives and still...

_._

_She's spent an awful lot of her life thinking 'you better not jump 'cause there's a chance you might drown._

Still… what would she have accomplished?

_._

_It seems silly now that she thinks about it. It's the fall that's going to kill her. She gets that now._

Putting away the people who killed her mother isn't going to bring her mother back. And losing everything she could have to put them away isn't going to benefit her. She cannot win.

_._

_No more falling. And with that, her hand renews a firmer grip on the ledge she's hanging from._

She can chase these people. Or she can fight the darkness that threatens to consume her. She could fight for something more. Something that might even be better. Something that might mean everything.

_._

_Summoning up every ounce of strength, she fights._

"I love you Kate," echoes in her head.

_._

_And suddenly she's flying again. But this time, over the ledge and on to solid ground._

Her summoned will to fight? That's what brings her to his door tonight…

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_**The sharing of your thoughts with the clicky-clicky button below is never required, but always appreciated. :)**_


	2. Hatred is Blind

**This is a second "I don't know what this is" piece. Maybe, kind of a continuation of the first chapter. Maybe not. You tell me. : )**

**Thanks RositaLG for the read-through and enthusiastic response. And a Happy (Early) Birthday to you! *sniffs* Our little Jenn is growing up! (heh heh)  
**

* * *

Doing the time, putting in the work.

This is why she's in therapy.

But sometimes, therapy really felt like work. Especially when she had actual _homework_.

One week, Doctor Burke had asked her to consider the definition of blindness. What the word meant to her. She was to come back and tell him her thoughts next week.

At the time, she was in the middle of a case and just barely kept from scoffing at the 'assignment' before agreeing in order to excuse herself and hurry back to work.

It was the day before her next appointment, just before midnight, when she remembered the assignment. Having not put much thought into it until now (besides the obvious 'It means you can't see' or 'It is the word used to describe a medical condition'), she turned to a search engine.

And found plenty of things regarding just how blind love seems to many.

She collected a smattering of well-known quotes and printed them out to take with her. Recited some at her session. He prompted her with more questions.

"_Why those definitions?" _

"_What do they mean to you?"_

She gave him the answers she could.

But there was one that was different. One that, for lack of better words, struck a chord. She specifically avoided it because she knew it might be one of those things Doctor Burke glommed on to in that week's discussion.

"_What you lose in blindness is the space around you, the place where you are, and without that you might not exist. You could be nowhere at all." –Barbara Kingsolver_

Oh. She wasn't willing to go there now.

She wasn't quite ready yet.

Until she had been beaten down and tossed off a roof. That's enough to bump one's outlook from _not ready yet _to _no time like the present_ for a little reflection.

Hate was blinding. Hate caused blindness. The hate she felt toward the invisible force that was responsible for her mother's murder all of these years? It had blinded her to everything else.

Her right hand slipped from the roof. And his name tripped from her lips. Her left hand slipped from the roof. And she screamed his name.

And suddenly it all became _that_ much clearer.

After her mother died, she lost the space around her. She lost her place in the world. Without her mother, she ceased to exist.

Her hatred gave her purpose. Gave her focus. But it blinded her. So she stumbled through the next years of her life trying to fill the space, trying to make a place, trying to justify her existence.

It was on that roof, hanging by the tips of her fingers that she could really _see_ again for the first time since her mother died.

Her mother's death was a black hole in her heart all these years.

Until he moved in to fill it.

Her place in this world could no longer be justified by her badge alone.

That's why it was so easy to toss her badge down and walk away.

And her existence?

She dialed his number and counted the rings, knowing he sent her to voicemail.

Maybe this wasn't going to be easy.

But that wasn't going to be enough to stop her now.

_With him_ is her place. _With him_ is where she stands.

She can see this now, clearly, for the first time.

Yesterday, she called her mother's murder the most important thing in her life.

But he opened the door and she sees what's actually important.

And she almost smiles standing in front of him. Because she has so much to say. She thinks to tell him she's not _nowhere_ anymore. _She's here._

_"Beckett, what do you want?"_

She hesitates no more than a breath before she summarizes everything she's come to realize is important today.

_"You."_

When you're blind, it's easy to think you're knocking down a wall by you're simply walking into it repeatedly.

When you can see the wall, you realize you have another option entirely.

**_Scale it._**

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_**Your thoughts, as always, are beloved. :)**  
_


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